


doesn't mean I want you any less

by Marvelgeek42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ...sort of, F/M, Time Travel, Tom Riddle's Diary, Tom's twelve, not a Horcrux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9921182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelgeek42/pseuds/Marvelgeek42
Summary: Tom Riddle had bought his new diary in the Muggle parts of London. This was only important for one reason only: when he opened it to start writing, there was already something written there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Add this to the list of pairings I never thought I would write but somehow very much enjoyed writing.

Tom Riddle had bought his new diary in the Muggle parts of London. This was only important for one reason only: when he opened it to start writing,  _ there was already something written there _ .

He had flipped through it when he had seen it in the store and it had been completely empty then. Now, had he brought it in Diagon Alley or so he may not have been surprised—he had long since learned that not many things were impossible in the magical world.

But the point was that the diary was completely muggle. Tom hadn’t left the orphanage since he had bought it, and he was certain that he was the only one aware of Hogwarts and the magical world—both of which were mentioned in the entry, thus making it obvious that it was no joke from one of the other kids.

Because that’s what it was. A diary entry. Seemingly written by someone who would be going to Hogwarts for the first time this fall, a year younger than he was now.

It was quite odd, and that was it what made him curious which in turn made him reply. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back tenfold. Tom couldn’t  _ not  _ know what was going on.

Even though his reply was only a simple message—more than enough to test his theory—he took great care writing it. First impressions were important after all.

He didn’t move away from the diary for the next hours. He even took it with him when he went to dinner, but somehow, not one of the patrons noticed.

It took a few hours, but he did receive a reply from the other person—well, presumably—did not have as nice of a handwriting as he had seen observed the other students of Hogwarts write in, but it wasn’t as ugly as the way some of the kids in the orphanage wrote 

The person on the other end—he recalled that the first entry had been signed ‘Ginny’—was asking the very same question he did himself.

_ Who are you, what are you doing in my diary, and how is this even possible? _

Neither of them had any idea, but they agreed on one thing:

If nothing else, this would turn out to be very interesting.

* * *

It didn’t take them long to figure out that they were from different times.

Once, Tom had expressed worry about Grindelwald’s actions and Ginny had replied something along the lines of  _ He was defeated ages ago, why are you still worrying? _

Then, when Tom had told Ginny that he would be entering his second year, she asked him if he knew some kid named Harry Potter ( _ oh, and my brother, too, I guess _ ) and then proceeded to be confused when Tom confessed that he had never heard of the name ( _ I think I have heard of a Fleamont Potter, but no Harry _ ).

There were several more encounters of that kind, so it was not that difficult to figure it out, because what other reason could there possibly explain everything.

That made it surprisingly easy to ask the other person for advice. They couldn’t see you mess up and it was really unlikely for them to be on the other side unless they had a valid point. They could offer another point of view which sometimes was really helpful, like when Tom told Ginny to tone down her crush on this Harry-person, or when Ginny advised him that he could change the things that bothered him if he planned carefully and made long-term plans.

And Tom liked to think that he was pretty good with that.

* * *

For Tom, February fourteenth was just a normal day.

He saw no reason for it.

He didn’t see the point in these wannabe romantic gestures and similar attempts of other students to win their desired partners over.

Honestly, most of them would end up in an arranged marriage anyway, so why should they bother chasing a partner they would have to leave behind?

Whenever he commented on that, however, they all thought he was being jealous—which clearly, he wasn’t.

Anyone could see that. Who would he even be jealous of? The kids snogging in the broom closets?

No, thank you very much. Tom’s life was good enough without that mess.

For the entire day, he had to avoid girls his age with the weirdest looks in their eyes attempting to talk to him.

Sometimes, it was a close call, but he always managed to disappear in the last possible second. He had known that exploring the castle carefully would pay off, even if he had imagined it to be for different reasons.

After the lessons of the day were over, he hid away in the quietest corner he had found so far—somewhere in a secret passage that he had never seen anyone other than him use—and brought out his books. Not his schoolwork, he would do that somewhere with a table, but rather the fiction books he had started reading since the Yule holidays. A roommate of Ginny’s had recommended some and his friend—because that’s what she was, wasn’t she?—had passed it on once she discovered that Muggle fiction was indeed quite interesting.

Tom also got out the diary and placed it on the ground, so he would see any entry made.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there—going by his progress in Tolkien's work, it couldn’t have been that long—when he saw new words appearing on the page.

_ Hey Tom, _

_ Lockhart’s done something really weird today. He dyed the Great Hall pink and hired a bunch of dwarves? I think? So that they could carry messages. _

_ To think that only half a year ago I would have used this as an excuse to write a (quite possibly stupid) poem for Harry and embarrass both of us in the process is quite weird. _

_ But that’s not why I’m writing you. I’m writing you, because today the only thing I could think about was how sad it was that I couldn’t spend the day with you. You’ve been a great friend, Tom, and I can think of no one else I would rather spend this, no,  _ _ any _ _ day with. Just because you’re not physically here with me, doesn’t mean I want you any less. _

For a minute or two, Tom simply sat there. His mind couldn’t grasp the fact that Ginny was effectively choosing him—Tom Riddle, a no-name boy she would likely never meet—over her lifelong crush, Harry Potter.

He only broke out of his stupor when Ginny started apologizing.

_ Don’t do that _ , he replied.  _ If I had any choice, I would spend my days at your side until the return of Merlin. I like you and I wish there was a way we could actually be together. _


End file.
